Jessica Jones - One Last Case
by Danny Power and his Broken Sky
Summary: Some days, she felt like a hero. Others, she thought of herself as anything but one. After her latest successful case, Jessica Jones laid low, working as a P.I on cases deemed too dangerous for the N.Y.P.D. When half of New York suddenly disappears, losing her friends in the process, she takes on her most important case yet; contacting the Avengers.


_New York, The City That Never Sleeps. Nice tagline, right? It's what draws the tourists in...and all the assholes. Look, I'd be out of a job if everybody started playing nice and went to church but if you're a dick, I normally come looking for you. I sort out the scum that the Avengers don't bother to look for._

She chugged her fifth shot of whiskey, waiting for the inevitable burn to kick in. It coarsed down her throat like it always did, soothing the itch she needed to scratch. The bartender wiped their glasses casually, the sound of american football broken by sirens outside. The cops weren't paid enough to deal with the bullshit in this town, but neither was Jones. She raised her hand and ordered another, grabbing it when it swung her way. The glass cracked slightly, her grip just a little too strong. Jess rolled her eyes and handed over a dollar note to replace it.

_Definitely not getting paid enough._

"I can tell when you're on a case." She commented, trying to start a conversation. "This is a lot, even for you."

"None of your business." She croaked, her throat still stinging, her hair getting into her eyes. Still, it meant that she didn't have to see the person who was trying to talk to her, and she gave up pretty quickly after that. Prick was right though; There was a serial kidnapper on the loose, three child abductions this week alone, all pointing to the same person. They were sloppy, they made the same mistakes and the victims all matched the same description; blonde hair, blue eyes, ten to twelve years of age. Jones had dealt with worse - which was really saying something - but these types of cases normally weren't much of a problem for her. Whenever she got close to the asshole, they disappeared without a trace. They leave behind their crime scene in a hurry, but it's almost as if they knew she was coming.

She couldn't discount the possibility that they were powered.

Some guy sat next to her, already completely smashed. He seemed new, because he had the nerve to talk to her, his eyes glassed over. People didn't normally make that mistake.

"You come here often?" It sounded more like a statement than a question, though the words were so slurred that she wasn't sure if he knew where he was. No older than his mid-twenties, a complete lightweight or relatively new to the art of drinking himself senseless. Either way it didn't matter.

"I'm not the girl you should be coming onto, kid." He either ignored that statement or simply didn't hear it.

"You remind me of my ex, a total _bitch_..."

"Wow. Nice opener."

"But not you! I like 'em with dark hair, pale skin, gets the blood- "

"Gross." She cut in, swigging back her drink to try and block him out. Unfortunately, he really didn't get the hint. He placed his hands on her, though it could had been to steady himself and stop him from falling.

"I know where we can go to - " He never really had a chance to finish that sentence, because he was sent across the room, colliding the the table on the far end. Drink was sent flying, soaking him in it. He didn't move. That bartender glared at her until she handed over a few more dollars. Hush money, it was burning a hole in her wallet.

The city was dark, lights flashing in the background. Seems those sirens from earlier were wrapping up their business, dragging a man in handcuffs and forcing his head underneath the back door. There could had been any reason why he was in that situation; gambling, extortion, drugs, immigration, smuggling, a misunderstanding. He had the look of a person who was resigned to his fate. He knew what he did. Jess decided not to check up on the case, though there were a few that were pleading their innocence. The cops didn't really take being influenced by a powered person seriously anymore, people always had to go ahead and milk the system, ruin it for everybody else... and the victims that genuinely needed to say that.

The elevator in her home was broken so she was forced to take the stairs, not exactly an easy task with all the drink she had, but she managed it anyway. Her door stood there at the end of the hall, Alias Investigations emblazoned on the glass, far too many associated with it for her liking. Jones slumped through it and collapsed on her bed, the smell of drink heavy on her breath.

Then her phone rang.

She groaned, answering it as quickly as her fingers would allow her. "Christ, it's 3am!"

"Sorry!" Of course it was Trish on the other line, "I got a lead on the kidnapper, did a bit of digging around and - "

"First of all, you think you have a lead. Secondly, I've snooped around and took a look at all the child abductors and pedophiles who had recently been released from prison across a hundred-block radius, and there are too many to narrow down that quickly."

"You know, I took a leaf out of your book; checked their rubbish for any receipts, ran through their laptops - "

"You're breaking and entering into people's homes. Go to yours right now. We'll pick it up in the morning."

"You know I'm not going to do that."

"I know. Hit me with what you got tomorrow, when I'm not drunk and fit to pass out."

"Sleep tight."

"Whatever."

Far too often, Jess was woken by the sound of some idiot knocking on her door.

Her head was a war zone, her eyes stinging from the hangover, blinded by the morning - or afternoon - light. Maybe it was Trish, wondering why she bailed on her again. Maybe this time it was Malcolm, doing whatever Malcolm did nowadays, Jess really didn't care. She barged towards the door, noticing the silhouette before anything else.

Hogarth.

Jeri had a habit of showing up when Jess wasn't in the mood, but the woman may have had a potential crack in the case. She opened the door, standing face-to-face with the face she grew all too familiar with.

"A phone call would have sufficed."

"With the confidential information you asked of me, anything traced would pull me under. You know better than that, Jessica." She allowed herself inside, the sound of her heels almost unbearable. "There's no need to remind you that the information I'm giving you is extremely privileged."

"Just hit me with the names, I'll take care of the rest."

"You reek of booze." Hogarth mentioned, taking her seat.

"You sound like you're surprised." Jess retaliated, slouching against her chair and opening another bottle of liquor. "I'd offer you one, but with your condition..."

Jeri reached into her bag, pulling out a folder. It reeked of dust. Jessica was about to reach for it when Hogarth pulled it back, just out of her reach.

"You're looking at the files, I'll be taking it back."

"Can I look at the files, then?"

Jess skimmed through them, every man and woman who had hired her firm to represent themselves in the event of child abduction or molestation. It wasn't a particularly light list, or easy to look at.

"Any of them released from prison in the last twelve months?"

"Only two: Greggory C. Anthony, and Holly Hortz. Both charged on child abduction, both represented by my firm, both successfully set free."

"Sometimes you're _too_ good at your job." Jess opined. Jeri shrugged. "Either of those two gone cold recently?"

"Both."

"Fantastic." She jotted down the addresses for both, handing her back the file and grabbing her coat.

"A thank you would suffice in lieu of payment." Hogarth muttered, standing up as carefully as she could. Her condition had only deteriorated since the diagnosis, though she was the last person on the planet who would let it show.

"Thanks. I have a job to do."

"As do I." Jeri pointed out, seeing herself outside. Jessica had already packed enough necessities to do a stakeout, the shoulder bag wrapped hoisted on her back before barging out of her apartment.

The city looked just as gritty as it had the night before, but there was something in they way that people moved this morning, the sort of hope in their eyes that wasn't there before. It was clearly about the Avengers, what else would lift their spirits in this crappy part of the neighborhood? Sure enough, there were articles flying around about Iron Man, spotted hovering over the city or something stupid like that. Tony Stark didn't have much to do these days, not since that metal tin-man reject tried to send Sokovia crashing into the ground. She spotted the car she needed to get to, shutting it behind her as she reclined into the passenger seat.

"Christ Jess, you stink!" Trish whined, opening her window.

"We've been doing this thing for a while now, you should know better. I can always just leave and do this myself."

"No! We're a team... even if you do smell like a drunken one-night stand."

"There wasn't a one-night stand, unfortunately. Can we just drive now?"

"You haven't told me where we're driving to." Trish pointed out, causing Jess to roll her eyes. She fetched her notes, unraveling the paper.

"57th West Street, we're looking for a Holly Hortz."

Trish ignited the engine, it was a short drive away, but the traffic was notorious during lunch-hour, the traffic lights unforgiving. They lounged as they immediately hit their first set of red lights, car horns sounding all around them.

"Quite a commotion around here today."

"Yeah, well you can blame the Iron Man for that." Jess moaned. "Whole place looks a look chirpier now, makes me sick."

"Why, because he did more good for the neighborhood by flying around than we had over the last few months?"

"We actually help people, they dig themselves out of the holes they dug."

The journey was very stop-and-start, every set of lights giving them trouble and holding them back longer than they would have liked. Trish handled the radio while Jones looked outside her window, watching the commotion. It was weird, ever since those alien things - the reports classified them as Chitauri , catchy - invaded and destroyed almost half the city, there had been massive attempts by the community to rebuild, though some buildings still layed in rubble even after all this time. The Avengers didn't save those people. Maybe she shouldn't had thought about the negatives, but there she was thinking about them.

"Gonna need to know when we're going to stop, here."

"Stop by 1378, abandoned building, most likely spot." It also had at least twenty empty storeys which was going to be a problem, especially if this woman could sense them coming. "We're going to need you to be at your best for this one."

"I can see in the dark."

"Well look at you!" Jess taunted. Trish cracked a grin and parked a few blocks down from the skyscraper. The area had seen better days, finishing up the final part of clearing the rubble and making the entire place a bit more livable, but definitely a ghost-town compared to the rest of New York. They tred quickly, ducking under yellow tape that sealed off the area, not exactly trying to blend in with a crowd that wasn't there. The doors were locked, but Jess happened to have a key...

Seconds later - and after a forceful thug - they were open.

"There's a high chance that they're not camping here."

"We have more leads if the trail goes cold." Jones replied. "Though to be honest, I'm kinda sick of having this asshole escape every time I'm close. You ready?"

"More than ready."

"Then you first, Patsy."

It was pitch-black inside - all the windows were boarded up, electricity switched off in this crappy place - so Trish led the way while Jessica switched on her torch. Nothing immediately jumped out that led her to believe that the place was occupied recently - shit - but it was still early in the investigation. Dust covered the counters and floors, the elevators weren't working, and when Jess pried the doors open there was nothing to be found. Nothing on her partner's side of things either. They might had been barking up the wrong tree.

They checked storey after storey, combing through it for any sort of scraps and finding nothing, One particular window was open on the sixth storey - a possible clue - but the room looked just as empty as the rest, no fingerprints or footprints or anything else recently. Jess's blood boiled, ready to slam her fists against the wall. She closed her eyes and counted to three, which did absolutely nothing but make Trish wonder why she wasn't moving.

"C'mon, there's plenty more we need to look through."

This was going to be the sixth time she felt like she was closing in on this. The sixth time she was going to be left empty-handed. There wasn't enough drink in her apartment to make her forget about today.

"Jess!"

Trish caught her attention, shining her light in her general direction. Sure enough, Patsy leaned towards a chocolate wrapper. It was incredibly fresh, the chocolate still stuck to Jessica's fingers when she touched it. Jones shined the torch on it, a faint trail leading away from them. There were several footprints, half-covered once again with dust, but they were recent.

"They're close."

"And they've got nowhere left to run."

They double-timed it, combing through every cupboard, every cabinet and everything bar the damn kitchen sink as the day wore on. She knew they were here, she could feel it. It didn't matter of she could read minds at this point, there was only so much your powers could help with before you get caught. Losing patience, Jess eyed the stairs, at the rest of the storeys that they needed to climb.

"Divide and conquer. You work your way up, I work my way down." Trish nodded, leaping up the stairs and disappearing into the storey above. Jess took in a deep breath and focused everything she had on her calves, pushing down and then jumping as high as she could. She almost didn't make it, forcing her to grab onto the railing for dear life. Once she hoisted herself up, she noticed something else out of the corner of her eye.

More wrappers. A _lot_ more.

There were dozens of them, all hoarded into a single corner. Not just that, but fizzy drinks and cola cans. Torn papers were dotted across the floor, nothing immediately obvious but definitely an indicator that somebody squatted in the place recently. She moved cautiously, her torch shining the path ahead, until she turned a corner.

There wasn't even a window worth mentioning, just a big hole in the wall that allowed the sunset to shine through. Jess strode towards it, peering outside.

There, descending the outside stairs in a hurry, was a woman in her forties, racing down for dear life: Holly Hortz.

_Gotcha_.

She sprinted towards those same steps, sliding down the space in between them, her fingers burning from the friction. The poor woman didn't have a prayer. Jones snaked around the railing and blocked off her path, watching her eyes as they widened in terror.

"Wait!" She pleaded, backing off. "I can explain."

"You can start by telling me where those kids are."

"W - What kids?"

"Don't give me that crap, I know who you are, Holly."

"Please, whatever you think I did, I didn't do it!"

Jessica grabbed her by the arm, hoisting her into an armlock and slamming her against the thin railing, She had no problem with breaking them and sending her falling. Holly was absolutely terrified, holding onto Jessica like her life depended on it...which it did.

"I'm going to count to three, and if I don't get an answer I will send you flying. Don't think I wouldn't do it!"

"You don't understand!"

Jess pressed her face against the railing, making her look at the fall she could have if she didn't cooperate. Holly screamed as loudly as she could, but it wasn't going to be much good from so high up and so far away from anybody else.

"One..."

"I told you! I-"

"Two..." She loosened her grip on the woman, forcing her to clinch tighter. Her fingers were slipping with each passing moment.

"Three!"

"Wait! I'll tell you!"

Jones smiled, tossing her back to the opposite end of the staircase. Holly gripped her arm in pain, the fear of God herself in her eyes.

"You have to listen to me, those kids! They're in danger!"

"Yeah? Well what are they in danger from?"

"Look, I'm... I'm powered, alright? I can hear what people's think, but only if they're nearby!"

"What sort of excuse is that?" Jessica yelled, noticing Trish as she made her way to meet them. She landed gracefully beside her friend, watching the crazy hag with suspicion, her face completely covered.

"It's... It's not me you should be scared of, there's somebody after those children, I can hear her thoughts when she's nearby... I had to take them, keep them safe until she loses interest!"

"Lady, you're not making a whole lot of sense and quite frankly I'm too sober to deal with this." Jessica noted, moving closer towards her.

"My name isn't Holly, It's Ronda Ashburn! Holly must be the woman you're looking for!"

"Any idea what this woman looks like?"

"Not a clue, but I can only tell when she's nearby, she wants to hurt them."

"We're returning them to their parents." Trish explained, suddenly playing good-cop, "Then we're going to call the police and they can take care of it. She's just one woman, they can handle it."

"I'm just one woman." Jess spat. "This one woman might also be a problem... Shit Ronda, how about coming clean at the very beginning so I don't go about threatening you?"

"You literally jumped down several storeys without a scratch! I've seen you on the news!"

"Reputation precedes me, then. Well c'mon, you're showing us where they're holed up." 

They stopped by 12th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen, an awful long ways away from where Ronda was, leaving the kids by themselves. She promised them that they were well looked after, enough food and drink to keep them going. Trish pointed out that she was effectively keeping them hostage and could see a spell in jail for her troubles. Jessica thought differently, advising that she knew a certain lawyer who could help get her off the hook _if_ she was being telling the truth.

The warehouse - it was always a damn warehouse - was abandoned, not a single pane of glass where the windows should be. She explained that she didn't have a choice, because she was always forced to run whenever Jones got too close. The engine cut off and the lights were dimmed, blending in with the night sky.

"I'm keeping eyes on you the whole time, or you won't need to read my mind to know what I'm going to do to you."

"I can read your mind, and I know you're being completely serious, don't worry." Ronda responded, tying her hair back. "For what it's worth, I'm really sorry for - "

"Save it, you and I aren't friends. You're going to have to tell me everything you know about this woman, anything at all."

"All I know is that she's in a lot of pain. She lost her kids to that alien attack few years back, I can see what she imagines."

"Still not an excuse for actual child abduction. Come with me."

"Yes Ma'am."

Ronda never left her side, Trish taking up the rear. She walked slowly into the compound, the door open. Sure enough, all three kids were lounging around a dumpster fire, afraid. They all looked terrifyingly alike, considering they were from different families. Holly wanted her replacement children to look a certain way, which Jess could only assume was to look like herself. They moved back once they saw Ronda and her two accomplices, frightened.

"Jessica Jones, P.I. I'm taking you back to your families." She stated. "Just tell me where you live and my friend and I will drop you home."

"What about Ronda?" One of them asked. She wasn't in the mood for a child with early onset Stockholms Sydrome. She wanted to leave that to the therapists their parents were going to pay after all of this was done.

"I'll look after her, now come on. The motor's running and I need to get paid."

They were very cautious, looking at Ronda and each other in hesitation.

"She'll keep you safe from Holly, I can read her, remember?" Ronda assured them, putting on her best fake smile. Jess remembered pulling that kind of face before. They seemed content with that, heading towards her as quickly as they could.

Then, all of a sudden, they stopped.

Their faces turned pale, all at once. One of them looked like they were in pain, glaring at Jessica. She turned around, at first assuming that they spotted something behind her, but nobody was there.

"What are you..." Jones started to ask, but trailed off when she saw what happened. One by one, they started to disintegrate, fading away and dispersing right in front of her eyes. Ronda ran towards them, kneeling down at the last remaining child, herself turning into nothing more than dust in her hands.

"Explain, now!" Jess demanded, grabbing her by her shirt and hoisting her upwards. Ronda struggled in her arms...and then she didn't. Her own eyes widened, like she had seen a ghost... before she also began to crumble. Jessica could feel her slipping from her fingertips, light as air.

"Shit!" She didn't know what was going on, turning to Trish... rushing towards her when she collapsed, grabbing her mask and yanking it off. She struggled to breathe, staring at Jessica tearfully.

"Tell me whats going on!" She cried, shaking Trish in her arms. She didn't answer her.

"Trish please!"

Then, just like all the rest, Trish disappeared. fading into thin air. She tried to grab as much of the dust as she could, like she could somehow bottle her and reanimate her. She ran outside, rushing towards the car and sealing the door behind her. She fought to control her breathing, her eyes darting from any and every moving object.

What the hell just happened?

Before she could even answer her own question, she heard screaming, a lot of it. It seemed like it came from everywhere at once, like the entire city was in the middle of a crisis. She only had to look outside to see what was going on; plumes of dust bellowed into the sky, the same dust she saw her friend turn into. People were running across the street in panic, completely lost. One of them ran towards her car, a man who didn't have a clue what was going on, but he tripped and fell. Poor bastard didn't even hit the ground before he disintegrated. She forced herself to ignore the cries and the screams, setting the car into first gear and barreling back home.

She needed to know what was going on. She needed to know what happened to Trish, and how to get her back.


End file.
